"Breathe (Remix)" lyrics
(feat. 50 Cent, Ma$e)
Woo!
Woo!
Woo!
Breathe!
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta breathe
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta breathe
Then you gotta
Then you gotta
Yo these niggas can't breathe when I come through, hum too
Some shoes, gotta be 20 man
It's not even funny they can't breathe
The choke holds too tight
The left looks too right
You know what? You right
These bitches can't breathe
Look look, their hearts racin'
They start chasin'
But I'm so fast when I blow past
That they can't breathe
In the presence of the man
Your future looks better than ya past if you present with the man
You better breathe
You niggas can't share my air
Or walk a mile in the pair I wear
And I'm gettin better year-by-year
Like they say wine do
Cops couldn't smell me if you brought the canines through
And I pace myself
I know these money-hungry bitches wanna taste my wealth
But I keep 'em on a diet
Embrace their health
Or either keep 'em on a quiet
And space myself
And just take a deep breath
I got 'em grabbin' their chest
'Cause it's hurtin' 'em to see Fab in his best
And they're in their worst
They rather see me lay in the hearse
Than lay in the back
And I ain't just layin a verse
I'm sayin the facts
I came back with some sicker stones
That got these broke niggas lookin at me like they're chokin' on a chicken bone
Every chick I bone
Can't leave the dick alone
So I know
It's one of them every time I flip my phone
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta breathe
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta breathe
Then you gotta
Then you gotta
Re-re-remix!
[50 Cent:]
I'm the topic in every barbershop and beauty salon
'Cause these other niggas that rap ain't on the shit that I'm on
'Cause 50 this, 50 that, 50 stay with a gat
Thirty-two shots in the clip, hollow tips in the Mack
But when I come through, shh... the talking stop
My money long now, I can make the Pope get shot
Now, we can blow an hour talking 'bout the stones I rock
All the hoes I got, 'cause he stunts in the drop
I'm marking my music like diesel on the block
So if you're with me you're gon' eat and you're gon' starve if you're not
Weed smokers love me like they love Buddha
I'll send your kids through the shooter
Crip niggas love me like they love Hoova
They tell me see careful good
'Cause niggas wanna see like you
They ain't used to a G like you
Yeah, niggas talking all that gangsta shit
Fucking head blown off nigga
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta breathe
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta breathe
Then you gotta
Then you gotta
[Ma$e:]
I see the girls in the club, they're gettin' wild for me
And all the pretty chicks all wanna smile at me
These rap cats man they all got their style from me
They all got their style from me
Woo!
Woo!
Breathe!
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta breathe
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta breathe
Then you gotta
Then you gotta
Yo these niggas can't breathe when I come through, hum too
Some shoes, gotta be 20 man
It's not even funny they can't breathe
The choke holds too tight
The left looks too right
You know what? You right
These bitches can't breathe
Look look, their hearts racin'
They start chasin'
But I'm so fast when I blow past
That they can't breathe
In the presence of the man
Your future looks better than ya past if you present with the man
You better breathe
You niggas can't share my air
Or walk a mile in the pair I wear
And I'm gettin better year-by-year
Like they say wine do
Cops couldn't smell me if you brought the canines through
And I pace myself
I know these money-hungry bitches wanna taste my wealth
But I keep 'em on a diet
Embrace their health
Or either keep 'em on a quiet
And space myself
And just take a deep breath
I got 'em grabbin' their chest
'Cause it's hurtin' 'em to see Fab in his best
And they're in their worst
They rather see me lay in the hearse
Than lay in the back
And I ain't just layin a verse
I'm sayin the facts
I came back with some sicker stones
That got these broke niggas lookin at me like they're chokin' on a chicken bone
Every chick I bone
Can't leave the dick alone
So I know
It's one of them every time I flip my phone
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta breathe
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta breathe
Then you gotta
Then you gotta
Re-re-remix!
[50 Cent:]
I'm the topic in every barbershop and beauty salon
'Cause these other niggas that rap ain't on the shit that I'm on
'Cause 50 this, 50 that, 50 stay with a gat
Thirty-two shots in the clip, hollow tips in the Mack
But when I come through, shh... the talking stop
My money long now, I can make the Pope get shot
Now, we can blow an hour talking 'bout the stones I rock
All the hoes I got, 'cause he stunts in the drop
I'm marking my music like diesel on the block
So if you're with me you're gon' eat and you're gon' starve if you're not
Weed smokers love me like they love Buddha
I'll send your kids through the shooter
Crip niggas love me like they love Hoova
They tell me see careful good
'Cause niggas wanna see like you
They ain't used to a G like you
Yeah, niggas talking all that gangsta shit
Fucking head blown off nigga
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta breathe
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta breathe
Then you gotta
Then you gotta
[Ma$e:]
I see the girls in the club, they're gettin' wild for me
And all the pretty chicks all wanna smile at me
These rap cats man they all got their style from me
They all got their style from me
Thanks to booyagrama42 for adding these lyrics.
Writer(s): Richard Davies, Roger Hodgson
